Just A Cold
by SouthernBlossom
Summary: Abby's stubborn as always, even sick. WARNING: May contain non-consensual spanking of adults. Don't like it? Don't read it.
1. Chapter 1

Thump… Thump… Thump… Thump…

A small marching band was wreaking havoc inside her head, causing Abby to cover her ears in pain as she buried her head underneath her pillow and tried to ignore the shrill ringing of the alarm clock. Normally Abby was the one to turn off the offending device, but that would mean she'd have to uncover at least one ear, and that wasn't happening… Not this morning, anyway. _When did the alarm clock get so loud?_

Several seconds later, she felt a warm body lean across her to reach the alarm, and she said a silent prayer as Tim ended the noise. Her joy was short-lived as the marching band was still there, and Abby realized with an inward sigh that it wasn't the alarm that had caused her head to throb so. She tried to breathe in through her nose only to discover that she couldn't.

Groaning Abby stretched her arms as much as she could without hitting the headboard and moved the pillow before pushing herself up to a sitting position. She really wanted to take a shower – maybe it would loosen up her stiff, sore limbs and help her to breathe a bit easier – but she wasn't 100% sure she'd make it to the bathroom without stumbling just yet.

Abby was still contemplating how to get to the shower when she felt a pair of arms wrap around her waist. "Good morning, Abs," a voice said moments before Abby felt soft lips on her shoulder. Looking back, she smiled as much as she could at the man behind her without grimacing.

"Mornin,' McGee," she murmured while wiping the sleep from her eyes.

The hands around her waist came to rest on the bare flesh of her belly, just underneath the hem of her t-shirt. Those same hands then moved out from under her shirt without warning up to her collarbones, then to her neck, then to her cheeks. It wasn't until gentle hands had turned her head just enough for his lips to settle upon her forehead that Abby realized what Tim was doing.

"Timmyyyy," she whined a bit, trying to pull her face away from his lips. Any other time she would've welcomed his touches, but his hands and lips were very deliberate upon her skin, and she knew that meant one thing and one thing only – he knew she didn't feel well.

"You're hot, Abs," he told her in a soft voice as his hands continued to gauge the warmth radiating from her skin.

"My head was just under the pillow," Abby replied, hoping it would sound like a good excuse. It really didn't sound so great to her, but if Tim fell for it, she would be grateful.

"I'm getting the thermometer," Tim continued as if Abby hadn't said a thing. "Stay here."

"Tim…" she tried again, but he had already pulled away and slipped off of the other side of the bed. She didn't want to stay on the bed. If she'd had her way, she'd already be in the shower. However, the fact of the matter was that the thermometer was in the bathroom, so that's where Tim was, and there was no way she would possibly sneak past Tim into the shower. To top it off, she'd have to hear it from Tim for getting off the bed in the first place after he'd told her to stay put. For someone who had been a pushover for such a long time, it was amazing how pushy _he _could be now.

Sighing, Abby pulled a blanket from the foot of the bed and wrapped it around her shoulders, trying to ignore the sudden chills she felt running through her body. She didn't have long to sit there and think about how bad she felt before Tim was standing in front of her, thermometer in hand.

"Open up, Abs."

She eyed the small tool warily. "What if I refuse?"

"We can do this the easy way or the hard way, Abby," Tim replied, his voice firm. "The easy way would be for you to hold the thermometer under your tongue like a good girl."

She shuddered to even think about the other choice, but she had to ask. "And the hard way…?"

He didn't blink. "There are other ways to take your temperature, Abigail."

Abby shivered a little. She always felt like a child in trouble whenever Tim called her by her given name, and she knew exactly what he was implying. No way in hell was he going to take her temperature like _that_!

Relenting, she opened her mouth just enough for him to slide the thermometer in under her tongue and then closed her lips around the plastic device. Abby hated thermometers; they were traitorous objects that always ratted her out when she wasn't feeling particularly peppy. The number on the screen determined how miserable she'd be for the next day or two. The higher the number, the more miserable she'd be… but not because she was sick. No, she'd be miserable because she'd be stuck in bed with nothing to do and no one around to keep her company because everyone else had to work. Abby hated that even more than the actual illness.

She prayed that it would read at less than 100 ºF. If her temperature were just 99-point-something, she wouldn't have to stay in bed. But, Tim and Gibbs had a rule – or, rather, it was Gibbs' rule and Tim had adopted it – that if Abby's temperature was 100 ºF or greater, she had to stay in bed. No ifs, ands, or buts.

The "evil thing" in her mouth beeped, and Abby scrunched her eyes in anticipation as Tim removed it from her mouth. _Please let it be under 100, please let it be under 100, please let it be under…_

"One-oh-one-point-five," McGee interrupted as Abby's hopes came crashing down. "No work for you today, Abs."

"Oh come on, Tim… I'll take a couple of Tylenol and I'll be fine…"

Tim shook his head. "Correction. You'll take a couple of Tylenol and you'll go back to bed."

"But I don't _want_ to go back to bed." She knew she was whining, and she knew it usually didn't work, but Abby felt like crap and she didn't want to be stuck in bed all day, alone. The mere thought of it made her feel like crying. And to top it off, her head still throbbed and her sinuses still felt like someone had poured cement in them overnight and it had hardened.

Instead of arguing with Abby, Tim merely pulled back the covers, nodding toward the pillows. "Back in you go."

Abby shook her head, wincing at the pain. "No…"

"It's not up for debate, Abs," he told her. "Now, you have two choices. You can lay back down now, and I'll go get you some Tylenol and help you get settled before I get ready for work; or, you can fight me, and you'll still lay back down and take some Tylenol and get settled, but you'll be doing so with a sore behind."

"That's not fair…"

"What's it going to be, Abby?"

Abby sniffled – well, tried to sniffle – and slowly eased back onto the pillows. She rolled on her side, facing away from McGee as he covered her with the sheets and comforter, and indulged herself in a pout. She half-expected him to roll her over and make her talk to him, but instead he headed back into the bathroom and Abby angrily wiped away a few stray tears.

Less than a minute later, Tim scooted up on his side of the bed, right in front of Abby, a bottle of water in one hand and two capsules in the other. "C'mon, Abs," he said gently. "This'll help you feel a little better."

She took the Tylenol without argument, or any comment whatsoever, and then dropped her head back onto the pillows, looking anywhere but at Tim. If he was going to bully her into staying home alone just because she had a little temperature, then she was going to be mad at him!

"Abby…" She heard him sigh, and then felt his fingers gently massaging her scalp. Damnit, it was hard to stay mad at him when he did that. "Abs, I know you're mad at me, but you're obviously not feeling well and you know I won't budge when it comes to your health. You need to stay in bed and rest so that you can feel better sooner. Okay?" Abby shrugged as she felt his lips on her forehead. "I'll check on you before I leave for work," he promised, and then he was on his way into the bathroom to get ready.

An hour later, Abby heard the front door shut as Tim left for NCIS Headquarters. She waited an extra five minutes, just for good measure, before slowly dragging herself out of bed. Tim or no Tim, there was no way she was staying home all day while he got to work and see everyone. No, Abby was going to work, too, even if it meant having to sneak around so that Tim wouldn't find out.

With an air of determination, Abby shed her nightclothes and headed for the shower to make herself presentable.

o o o o o

After only two hours at work, the Tylenol was already beginning to wear off and Abby felt the marching band begin to creep back into her head. In her haste to pass herself off as "normal," Abby had forgotten to pack some extra Tylenol for when the first dose wore off. She couldn't very well go around asking for Tylenol – people might get suspicious – so Abby decided she would just have to suck it up and suffer through. It was that or go home, and being at home alone still didn't appeal to her.

Abby was in the middle of searching for something on her computer when the sliding glass door opened and Tony came striding in.

"Gibbs wants to know if… Wow, Abs, you look like crap."

Abby rolled her heavy eyes at Tony, though on the inside she was beginning to feel nervous. She'd heard from several people already that she didn't look herself, but none of those people were as close to her as Tony was, and they predictably hadn't pursued it any further. "I swear if one more person says that today, I'll…"

Tony quickly closed the distance between them and placed the back of his hand to Abby's forehead, silencing the woman for a moment. "Abby, you're burning up. What the hell are you doing at work?"

"I'm _fine_, she insisted, turning her back to him and starting toward Major Mass Spectrometer.

"Oh no you don't," Tony said, grasping her arm before she could go anywhere. "Does Probie know you're sick?"

Abby wanted to tell him to mind his own damn business, but she didn't figure that would help her cause too much. It certainly wouldn't get him off her back. "Yes," she told him almost indignantly, wishing she could turn around and walk away. She had work to do!

"Does he know you're _here_?"

She faltered. "Yes…"

Tony narrowed his eyes. "You suck at lying, Abby."

"Okay, so he doesn't know. He wanted me to stay home, but I'm fine. It's just a little head cold."

"Little head colds don't include fevers," Tony pointed out in his typical, matter-of-fact way. Abby hated that he sounded so sure of himself, especially since she knew he was right. "And I _know_ Gibbs doesn't know you're sick, because he would've sent you home if he did." He gave her a pointed look there, and she fought not to blush. "Go home, Abby. You need to rest."

She shot him a glare. "I need to do my job without a bunch of overgrown apes trying to boss me around."

"Who's bossing you around, Abs?"

Abby turned to see Gibbs standing in the doorway. Her nerves shot through the roof, but she was determined to stay cool and collected. If she acted fine, maybe he wouldn't suspect otherwise. "Tony and Tim," she said with a huff. Feeling a tickle in her throat, Abby managed to cover her mouth a split second before coughing.

Without a word, Gibbs strode across the lab, his hand immediately pressed to her head. "What are you doing at work when you're sick, Abs?" he asked her in a gentle tone. _So much for fooling Gibbs…_

"Gibbs, I'm okay," Abby insisted.

"You are anything but okay. Come on, I'll have McGee take you home."

She shook her head quickly, regretting the movement as she felt the sudden pounding within her skull. "That's okay. I'll drive myself home."

"You will do nothing of the sort. McGee will take you. Now, get your things so you can go home and rest."

"Gibbs…" she tried again, feeling a lump form in the pit of her stomach. Tim was _not_ going to be happy. Forget not happy, he was going to be _pissed_. "Please… I promise I'll go straight home if I can just drive myself home."

Leroy Jethro Gibbs frowned as he studied his lab tech. She was stubborn on the best of days, but her refusal to let her fiancé drive her home didn't make a lot of sense, unless there was something said fiancé didn't know about.

"Abby." He used one hand to tilt her chin up so he could see her face clearly. "Does McGee know you're sick?"

She wanted to say no. Tony had mysteriously disappeared, so he couldn't rat her out to Gibbs. But Abby had never been able to lie to the man. Never. "Maybe…"

The look on his face wasn't good. "Does he know you're here?"

"Technically not…"

Gibbs growled. "Abby."

"It's only a head cold!" she whined. "Tim wanted me to stay home, but I wanted to work. Everyone else gets to work when they have a cold. But if Tim has to take me home, he'll know I've been here and I'll be in trouble…"

"Oh, you're in big trouble, Abby."

Abby whipped around in horror to find Tim leaning casually against the wall, his arms folded over his chest. He was anything but happy, and Abby suddenly felt sick to her stomach.

"Hi, Timmy," she whispered, biting her lip.

"Why aren't you at home in bed, Abby?" he asked, one eye perfectly arched, just waiting for whatever weak excuse she might give him.

"I don't want to sleep…" she tried to explain in a calm, rational voice, but it came out as more of a whine.

He took a deliberate step toward her, his arms still folded over his chest. "I never said you had to sleep, Abby… did I?"

"N-no…" she stammered, taking a step back herself.

Another step forward. "What _did_ I say, Abby?"

She couldn't take her eyes off of him as she took another step back. "To stay in bed…"

"And why did I say that?"

"B-because I wasn't f-feeling well?"

"What was your temperature, Abigail?"

One final step back, and Abby backed into the counter. She immediately grasped the counter on each side of her body, glancing nervously up at Tim. "One h-hundred one p-p-point f-five…"

She wasn't sure what exactly Tim was going to do right then, but she was caught by surprised when he reached up to press the back of his hand to her forehead. Both hands then moved to rest on her cheeks before his lips found their way to her forehead. "You're warmer than before," he murmured as he dropped his hands. "Go get your things, Abby. We're going home."


	2. Chapter 2

The drive home was quick, but to Abby it felt like an eternity. Tim was silent, and Abby wasn't sure whether it was in her best interest to attempt to initiate a conversation at this point. He didn't _look_ angry anymore, but lately Tim had been getting better and better at masking his emotions. On the off chance that he _was_ still pissed, she didn't want to unnecessarily provoke him.

Once home, Abby took her time getting out of the car. She still couldn't feel out Tim's mood, so she didn't know how patient he was feeling, but she did know her own energy was fading fast. Frankly, she wasn't sure she even had the energy to make it up to their second floor apartment.

She had just closed the passenger side door when she felt Tim's arm wrap around her shoulders. If he was still mad, he obviously wasn't too mad to provide her some sort of comfort, so Abby leaned her head on Tim's shoulder and allowed him to help her up to their apartment.

He unlocked and opened the door with one hand, his other hand still on her shoulder. Tim guided Abby inside the apartment, saying nothing as he locked the door behind them.

Abby glanced over at him, a bit concerned by the fact that he still hadn't uttered a word since they'd left the Navy Yard. "Tim…?" she whispered, hesitant.

"Pajamas and bed," he told her, his own voice muted. There wasn't a hard edge to his voice, but the look in his eyes dared her to argue with him. "I'll be there in just a minute."

She didn't need to be told twice. Abby headed for the bedroom as fast as her achy legs would carry her. It took her longer than she would've preferred, easing out of her clothes and into an oversized t-shirt, and it hurt more than she'd care to admit. Finally, Abby was able to crawl into bed and pull the thick comforter up to her chin.

No matter which way she turned or how she balled herself up, two things were for certain. Her body hurt more than it had when she'd first woken up; and she couldn't seem to get warm.

Abby knew Tim would be there in the bedroom any minute with some kind of medicine that would undoubtedly knock her out and leave her feeling loopy upon waking. She _hated_ 'loopy medicine' as she called it. Even worse, she didn't know if Tim would be returning to work after he 'doped her up.' Abby wasn't sure she could stand staying home alone the way she felt.

Sure enough, a minute later Tim walked into the bedroom, a glass of water in one hand and two green gel caps in the other. He had barely opened his mouth when Abby protested rather loudly.

"No. I am not taking whatever that is."

"It's NyQuil," Tim clarified, "and you are taking it."

"But Timmy…" she whined.

"If you want to argue, I could go ahead and spank you like I should've done back at NCIS." He watched her eyes widen at the threat. "Your health and safety come first, Abby. Period."

"It'll make me all loopy and drowsy," pouted Abby.

Tim arched an eyebrow at her. "Drowsy is good, Abby. You need the rest in order to get better."

She frowned, turning to bury her face in her pillow as she mumbled a retort.

"Oh no you don't."

Several seconds passed before Abby felt the covers being pulled off of her body. She shivered, anticipating a swat, but instead she felt herself being lifted into a warm pair of arms. Opening her eyes, she realized that Tim had sat in her place on the bed, and he was now situating her so she was seated on his lap. "Repeat that, please," he said as he studied her face.

Abby tried to turn her head away, but his hand gently held her in place, forcing her to look at him. Closing her eyes, Abby mumbled the words again, though without the pillow he could hear her clearly. "You just want me unconscious so you can go back to work."

He stared at her incredulously. "You think I…?" Before Abby could think, he shifted her and landed a swat to her backside that would've stung any other day but was downright awful considering how much her body already hurt.

"OW!" Abby screeched as she reached back to try to rub the sting away while tears pooled in her eyes. "What was that for?" she demanded, her voice cracking.

"For thinking that I would ever want to leave you here alone, sick." He leaned down slightly to press a kiss to her forehead. "I'm not going back to work until you're better. I wouldn't, even if Gibbs hadn't already told me he didn't want to see me again until you're well."

"But you left this morning…"

Tim shook his head. "And I was going to be home by lunch to take care of you. I just had some paperwork to finish quickly, and of course I needed to let Gibbs know what was going on. I didn't exactly get that chance, now, did I?"

Abby glanced away guiltily. Remembering something, she turned back to him, opening her mouth to speak, but he put a finger to her lips, quieting her.

"Nope. No more questions, comments, or anything else until you take your medicine and I check your temperature again." Tim reached over to the nightstand and grasped the gel caps. He held them out to Abby and waited for her to take them.

She sighed, but relented and placed the medicine in her mouth. Too tired to argue, she took the offered glass of water and rinsed the gel caps down with a grimace. "There," she said, handing Tim back the glass. "Thirty minutes from now, I'll officially be doped up."

"And you'll feel just the slightest bit better," he reminded her. Pulling the thermometer from his pocket, he held it against her lips, pleased when she didn't put up a fight but instead allowed him to place the instrument under her tongue.

Instead of mumbling around the thermometer, Abby closed her eyes again and leaned against Tim, breathing as best as she could through her nose. She heard the thermometer beep seconds later, and felt Tim slowly pull it out, but she didn't bother to open her eyes or even ask what it read. As bad as she felt, the number on the little digital screen had to be bad.

"One-oh-two-point-three." She heard him sigh before she no longer felt his arms around her. Her body suddenly sank into the mattress, and she was being bundled up as if in a cocoon. Why wasn't Tim still holding her? He'd promised he was staying…

"Abby."

She slowly opened her eyes, staring up at his face. He was still sitting beside her, and that gave her some small sense of comfort.

"I'm going to ask you a question, Abs, and I want the whole truth. No half-truths, no little white lies, and no omissions of the truth. Understand?"

Nodding hurt too much, so Abby managed a whispered, "Yeah."

"What hurts?"

"Everything," she replied immediately.

He nodded just the slightest bit, then sighed again. "If your temperature reaches one hundred and three, Abby, I'm taking you to the hospital."

Abby groaned. She wanted to argue, but she didn't really have the energy anymore, and it would only make Tim cranky. That was one thing Abby knew she _didn't_ want.

"Timmy…?" she asked in a small voice.

Tim reached down to brush the bangs off of Abby's forehead. "Yeah, Abs?"

"Will you hold me?"

He kissed her forehead tenderly. "Of course I will. Just let me go get changed out of my work clothes, okay?"

o o o o o o o o o o

When she was a child, Abby could remember playing in the swimming pool with friends. They'd all completely submerge themselves in the water and then talk to each other, trying to figure out what the other one was saying.

Only half-aware of her surroundings now, that's how it sounded to Abby – like someone was speaking underwater. She heard the murmur of a voice… more than one voice… but she couldn't make out the words.

She felt hazy, but even so, Abby was keenly aware of two things.

She was very hot.

And every inch of her body throbbed.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:** Only took what, two years to update? Yeesh. Sorry about that, but I did want to assure anyone who has followed this story that I do intend to finish it. Enjoy!

* * *

A hand brushed across her forehead, gently sweeping her bangs aside for only moments before they fell back into place on their own.

"I'm worried, Ducky."

Abby heard that more clearly than before. She recognized Tim's voice at once, but was surprised to hear him talking to the medical examiner. Was he on the phone with him?

"What was her temperature last time you checked?"

Ducky was there? What was Ducky doing _there_?

"Hundred and two point three. That was three hours ago. She fell asleep shortly after taking some medicine and she's been asleep since."

Damn that loopy-causing NyQuil. She was certain she wouldn't be so out of it if she hadn't been coerced into taking the stuff.

"Can you check her temperature without waking her?"

"I don't think so. The thermometer I have needs to be held under her tongue."

"Go ahead and wake her then, Timothy, so you can check."

"Mmwake," Abby mumbled, cracking her eyes open. She forced her stiff arms to bend, bringing her hands up to rub the blurriness from her eyes. She saw Tim sitting beside her on the edge of the bed, and Ducky standing a few feet away.

Tim looked at her in surprise. "I didn't realize you were awake, Abs. How are you feeling?"

She tried to arch an eyebrow, but she wasn't sure if it actually moved. What a ridiculous question she thought, as she was tucked under blankets and feeling like a bus had run her over. She couldn't even manage a complete sentence. "Hot… hurt…"

He frowned. Abby could see the concern in his eyes. She knew it wasn't her fault she was sick, but she felt bad for putting that look in his eyes to begin with. "Can you open your mouth?"

Abby cracked her mouth open. She knew it wasn't much, but apparently it was enough as Tim slid the thermometer under her tongue. Not having the strength to fight, she closed her lips around the device and laid there patiently, cringing internally as Tim seemed to grow _more_ concerned.

The heat was slowly becoming more and more unbearable as she wakened further, and an attempt to push the heavy comforter off of her proved in vain. She couldn't say anything with the thermometer in her mouth, and she wondered how much longer it would take to beep so she could say something.

She was about to attempt to speak around the thermometer when it finally beeped. Abby allowed Tim to take the thermometer. He looked at the screen and frowned, handing it over to Ducky, but she didn't wait for him to say something about it. "Timmy… too hot… comforter…"

Tim stood and pulled the comforter completely off of Abby's body, leaving the sheet in place. "Better?"

"A little," she managed.

Ducky placed a hand on Tim's shoulder, and he moved out of the way so Ducky could get a closer look at Abby. "How are you feeling, Abigail?"

She was able to roll her eyes. "Like shit."

"Yes, well, I gathered that much," he said, half-amused at her spunk. "Maybe I should have worded that better. Tell me about your symptoms."

Good grief, he wanted her to _talk_? "Feels like…" Abby paused, her hand somehow flying to her mouth just in time to muffle a violent cough. "Like I'm in a sauna… and a bus… ran me over… twice…"

"Any congestion?" Ducky asked.

"Yes."

"Sore throat?"

"Yes."

"Headache?"

"Yes."

Ducky glanced at the thermometer. "It doesn't look like your fever has gone down at all, my dear." This time, he directed his question to Tim. "What did she take earlier?"

"NyQuil," Tim told the medical examiner.

"The acetaminophen in that should've brought her temperature down, at least a degree," Ducky said, now sporting his own frown. "If I had to guess, I would say that Abigail has a strain of influenza, but I cannot be sure without tests. In any case, it is troublesome that her fever has not responded the acetaminophen."

"What should I do, Duck?"

"I recommend taking Abigail to the emergency room. It might just be something that has to run its course, but it would be better to be safe, just in case. I could drive the two of you there, if you would like."

Tim nodded. "I'd appreciate that. Thank you, Ducky."

"Don't mention it. I will wait out in the other room."

Ducky left the bedroom, closing the door behind him, and Tim opened a few dresser drawers to retrieve a pair of sweatpants and a shorter baggy t-shirt.

"Let's get you dressed, and then we'll get you to the ER so the doctors can make sure you're all right."

Abby groaned a little. "That would involve moving…"

"Here," Tim said, leaning over and wrapping his hands gently around her arms, just beneath her shoulders. As carefully as he could, he lifted Abby until her head and torso were upright.

"Ow…" she moaned, clutching her head with one hand.

Patiently, Tim helped Abby change from her nightshirt into the other clothes. He grabbed a pair of shoes and slipped those onto her socked feet. "Do you think you can walk?"

"Dunno," came her honest answer.

Slowly pulling Abby to her feet, Tim wrapped an arm around her, offering support. "Lean on me if you need to, Abs." That said he guided her out to the family room, where Ducky was waiting.

Abby shuffled most of the way to the car, but she managed to walk with Tim's assistance. He helped her into the car and closed her door before walking around to the other side. Climbing in, he scooted over to the middle seat, helping her finish buckling her seat belt before securing his own. As Ducky started the engine, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, inviting her to lean against him, and sleep took her once again.

* * *

She awoke a little while later in a bed that had her propped up just a bit. Looking around the room, she could tell she was at the hospital. She couldn't remember coming into the room, or even arriving at the ER, for that matter. She noticed a tube out of the corner of her eye, and as she followed it down toward the bed she realized it was hooked up to her arm. So they had an IV in her…

Tim was seated in a chair that didn't look too comfortable, but he seemed a little relieved when he noticed she was awake.

"How are you feeling, sweetie?"

Abby thought about that. "Not much different," she told him honestly, though she felt a bit more coherent than she had before. She decided the NyQuil must've worn off. "Why do I have an IV?"

"The doctors wanted to make sure you're getting enough fluids."

"This doesn't look like the ER…"

"They admitted you, Abs. They want to run some tests, and they were concerned when I told them the NyQuil hadn't brought down your fever at all."

She frowned. "I'd rather be at home… in our bed… Ducky even said he thought it was the flu. People my age don't regularly have to go to the hospital for the flu."

"People your age with the flu typically respond better to over-the-counter medications," Tim retorted. "They want to make sure it's just the flu, and not something more serious."

"Can't they at least take out the IV? It's bothering me…"

"It's only bothering you because you saw it, and no. The IV stays in until the doctor says otherwise."

"Meany," she mumbled with a pout.

Tim chuckled over that, which just annoyed Abby. "That's all right. If it'll help you get better, I can live with it."

Abby would've gladly yanked the thing out herself, but she really didn't have the energy to move unless it was absolutely necessary, and as slow as those movements would be, she figured Tim would stop her before she had a chance. Then on top of feeling like hell, she'd have a cranky, bossy Tim McGee to deal with.

It wasn't worth it.


End file.
